Her Last Visit
I exactly remember the last time my ex-girlfriend came over to my house. It was the time before the last time we met. She had her exams coming and needed my help. She wore a camisole and trousers. Her arms and shoulders were visible to me, with all its whiteness and freshness. At first she was ashamed of these parts being visible. Though we were together for last four years but I’ve never seen her naked of made love to her. Most of our relation was spent on the phone, because of me being away in another city for the sake of my school. By the way, her bra straps were visible. She wore a light red colored bra. “What a contradiction!” I thought to myself, red bra and shyness.
We’ve started to study. I’ve put my hand around her. I really wanted to touch her that day. It was four years of waiting for something to happen and it never had. A year ago I’ve found out she has cheated but I’ve1 kept the relationship intact because of my deep affection. And she was in my arms after all these. I was sure that this relationship was near its end and I can’t hide that I wanted her badly. I wanted sex.
She wasn’t responding to my caressing. I started playing with her bra straps on her shoulder and fondling her hair and at the same time I had to answer her questions about the thing we were studying together. I had a hard-on as soon as I touched her bra straps. The contrast between her body and the straps was driving me crazy. I’ve worn bras myself and they have always been my favorite piece of lingerie. I knew the feeling of a hand playing with the straps (though my own hand) and surely my girl knew what does it mean. Her breasts’ globes were visible from my view angle.
But she didn’t respond in any way. I didn’t want to force her to it. I’m not that type. I’ve waited all these years to come near to her. And she was not interested at the time I’ve managed to get close. I’ve tried many things to get her going, but no chance. The only good feeling that day was caressing and fondling her feet. I’ve took those wonderful feet in both of my hand, rubbing and enjoying the feeling. I really liked to lick those toes.
Later that day, I’ve came up with a conversation about why she refuses the cuddling or shows no response. She told that the feeling wasn’t right with her. She told me she never had an orgasm. I couldn’t believe this by the way.
When her new boyfriend called her on the cell, she just jumped in the room, closed the door, took off the camisole and wore her dress (usually long dress Iranian woman wear on all their clothing when coming out) over her breasts and the red bra covering them. Then she left.
It was the last time, I’ve seen her indoor. We had another bitter meeting after that and we spitted up on our fourth anniversary. I’ve never known why she couldn’t stay with me, why she doesn’t like cuddling and sex and…
I’ve never found the opportunity to be open to her about my cross-dressing. Today she is still in my fantasies. When I’m sitting and masturbatin9 to shema1e pictures on the web, I found similarities in their faces with my ex-lover’s face. My mind is torturing me in this way.
